


Laughter

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective and the Doctor [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dom!John, M/M, Mentions of Riding Crops, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of spider gags, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is not happy with how Sherlock treated Greg during a discussion about BDSM. Sherlock can't stop laughing. It is a volatile combination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter

Never before had John been driven to pound his head against a door - it had taken Sherlock to do it… of course it did. As soon as Greg had left the flat and his footsteps had faded, that's when the pounding had started. Not once, not twice, but three times his head impacted the door. “What the bloody fuck?” John rounded on Sherlock.

The detective had been pacing since Greg had stood up and hadn't said a word since. Not even when the DI thanked both him and John. Of course, he couldn’t do something as mundane as pace in a straight line, though the sitting room offered plenty of room for pacing. Instead, he was clambering up and over the sofa then up and over the coffee table like a bloody yoyo and John had quickly had enough.

“Stand still, Sherlock!” John's tone was dangerously low, and the younger man glanced up obviously recognising the Captain Watson voice. He didn't, however, obey. In fact he didn't even acknowledge that the doctor had spoken but went straight to the window and peered out. Sherlock's lips were turned upward in a broad smile. He was on the verge of a laughing fit. The detective watched as Greg scrambled into the back of the cab as fast as he could. That tipped him over the edge. Sherlock started with small giggles that grew into hearty laughs. The laughs turned into uncontrollable guffaws. He was soon clutching his at his sides as tears streamed down his face.

An angry red blush crept up John's neck. He had specifically told Sherlock to be tactful during the discussion with Greg. After all, it couldn’t have been easy for the DI to ask the man for his help. True, Sherlock had, in his own way, helped confirm Greg’s submissive streak and had also helped him to devise a way to approach Mycroft about his desires. The detective had even gone so far as to give Greg a card to their favourite sex shop and offered to let the DI put everything on his tab. Still, the way he had gone about it was inexcusable. He had embarrassed the man unnecessarily.

Sherlock continued to laugh for a further minute before John's temper was really verging on an explosion. “I said _what the bloody fuck?”_

“Oh, John, don't be like that!” The detective’s laughter had broken off only to be replaced with a pout. “Joohhnn. I wasn’t laughing at Greg.” He wriggled his lithe body seeking to defuse his Dom’s anger.

“Right. Against all evidence to the contrary, you want me to believe that you are laughing about something else that just happened to drop into your mind out of the blue.” John shook his head. “I don’t think so.” The doctor grasped Sherlock’s arms firmly, almost painfully.

Sherlock made a half-hearted attempt to free himself before giving up. “It’s just the two of them in my mind. There’s a whole new room in my Mind Palace devoted to the most inappropriate things. If only you could see them!” Sherlock started laughing again.

John looked confused at Sherlock’s words. “The two of them? Who?” He blushed furiously. “Oh. Them. Christ, Sherlock. That’s A Bit Not Good.” There was a pause then a prurient look settled onto his face. “What are they doing in there?” He nodded toward Sherlock’s head.

The detective raised his eyebrows at John’s inquiry. “Really, John? Lestrade is quite handsome for an older man…”

“Oi! I’m an older man.” John was indignant.

Sherlock nuzzled into the crook of his Dom’s neck as best as he could. “You’re not that old, John, and you keep quite active.” A mischievous glint was in his eyes. “Besides, I like older men.”

John nipped at his sub’s earlobe, hard. “You git.”

“As I was saying, Lestrade is quite handsome. So picturing him naked and kneeling isn’t the source of my humour. Not even when I picture him with that spider gag that I am sure he will purchase.” Another giggle escaped his lips. “But Mycroft now, I can just see him standing over Lestrade with his cake-induced belly quivering with each thrust into Lestrade’s mouth. His face would be set in that unreadable expression of his right up until the end and then he would simply let out a little ‘Oh.’ That would be it.” Sherlock was laughing out loud now.

John’s lips began to turn up into a smile of his own. “Fuck, Sherlock. Do you really think your brother would be that restrained?”

“Can you imagine anything else?”

John though for several long moments before giggling himself. “I bet he would map out every strike of a riding crop beforehand. Poor Greg would have his arse marked out with a biro.” He dipped down and took Sherlock’s mouth with his own in a firm and lingering kiss.

“He would probably have a chart scheduling each of Lestrade’s orgasms, allowing for optimal duration and intensity based on the period of denial between.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at that thought.

With an evil grin, John regarded Sherlock intently. “That might not be such a bad idea. I would love to see you squirm while you waited for me to get you off.”

Sherlock looked horrified. “Joohhnn.”

The doctor laughed. “No worries, love, that would require too much brain work. I like to make it up as we go.” He regarded his sub lovingly. “You were still a complete prat to Greg, you know.”

The detective looked sheepish.

“You know, I was fairly pissed off, ashamed, even. You managed to humiliate the one man besides me that actually puts up with you.”

Sherlock started to say something but closed his mouth. The word ashamed coming from John was decidedly not a good thing. Since it was aimed at him, he felt his stomach plummet to the floor. The detective took a moment to swallow around the lump of guilt in his throat before trying to justify what he had done. “But what he said at the crime scene…”

“Was a harmless joke,” John finished, sternly. “What you did was… was way beyond out of order Sherlock and you know it.”

Sherlock huffed. “So when he does it, it's fine but when I get revenge, it's not?”

“He is not my responsibility!”

“What? And I am?” Sherlock sounded indignant.

“We’ve never talked about this in our relationship, but I think, yes. Furthermore, I really think that you should be punished for your behaviour.” The look that John directed at his sub was very serious but filled with questioning.

Sherlock went stiff beneath his Dom. He knew that he could say no. Punishment had never been part of their dynamic and John wouldn’t push the matter if he refused. He swallowed once then gave a single nod. “You’re right, John. Of course you are. You’re always right.”

Something changed in the room. There was a shift in their relationship. Sherlock’s behaviour had just become John’s responsibility and the Dom was incredibly nervous about the change. He wasn't the only one.

John cocked his head to one side and the look that Sherlock was receiving was enough to make him take a quick step back. He wasn't quick enough though. John released one arm then, concentrating his hold on Sherlock’s remaining wrist, spun him around and pushed him into the wall.

Instinctively, Sherlock struggled. He may have been quite a bit taller than the older man but John had strength that the detective wasn't even aware of, many years of experience in the army, and years of training in restraining unruly prisoners so the detective didn’t stand a chance. The more Sherlock struggled the more unrelenting John's grip on his arm got, he held the sub’s wrist between the younger man’s shoulder blades until he ceased struggling.

John leant in close to Sherlock’s ear, his own ear brushing against the detective’s curls. Sherlock whimpered slightly which just made John even more determined to ram his point home. He ran his fist through the detective’s hair and tugged it back sharply. Any further attempts at struggling on the detective’s behalf was quelled before it began as the doctor whispered in his most domineering tone of voice, a voice that had commanded fully trained soldiers. “Greg meant no offence, nor did he go out of his way to humiliate you. He is in exactly the same situation as you were not that long ago. Now I don't give a fuck what you seem to think you were getting revenge for, you were out of order!”

John could see Sherlock’s mind racing at his words and a look of understanding dawned on his face. “I'm sorry, John,” he said quietly.

Oh my God. He actually said it. John couldn't believe his luck but still he pushed further. “What for Sherlock?”

Sherlock took a deep breath against the wall. “For being rude to Lestrade, and… and for embarrassing you… making you ashamed… of me,” he added quietly.

“Good.” John slowly released his grip and was pleasantly surprised when Sherlock didn't yank free at the first sign of release and race off. John moved over to his arm chair and collapsed into it, his sub followed and knelt beside him, his hands resting on the doctor’s knee.

Sherlock was pensive now, all mirth at the situation receded. “You would think that Mycroft would be like me. He always tries to be in control, but there are things that he just can’t control. You'd expect him to be submissive, just so every once in a while he wouldn't have to… care.”

John nodded. “But then, maybe he needs a situation where he is in absolute control. A willing submissive, such as Greg who would do anything asked of him, within reason, would give him that.”

Sherlock sighed. “I suppose you're right. Well, you always seem to be right.” He paused. “About relationships. You’re rubbish at crimes.”

John laughed again but suddenly became stern, enough so that Sherlock removed his hands from John's knees.

“Did you know that some relationships like ours are incorporated into everyday life, Sherlock? Some people eat, breathe and sleep Dom and sub life and do you know what I would do if we did that?” John was musing out loud.

Sherlock swallowed tightly and dropped his head. “No, John,” he said quietly.

John hadn't expected a response, he'd meant the question as rhetorical. “Well, for a start, I would find something that’s not on your limit list. I would make sure that you strongly disliked it, though, and subject you to it thoroughly. Then I would pummel your arse into next week.”

Sherlock’s breath caught and his eyes grew wide. There was an undercurrent of excitement and dread as he asked carefully, “Are you going to do that now?”


End file.
